Debra: Last week, I sent you for a simple garden hose. You came home with that tiny thing. It's totally useless.
Ray: What? That's a good hose.
Debra: It's two feet long. The water doesn't even reach the plants!
Ray: So you squirt it over there. Use your thumb, that's what people do.
Debra: Just so you know, that hose is goin' back.
Ray: Oh, that's it right there.
Debra: What?
Ray: That is how you get your way. "Just so you know." Yeah, yeah. "Just so you know, Ray, we're getting the flower drapes." "Just so you know, Ray, I ordered the boring couch without the footrests." "And, Ray, we're going to move in across the street from your parents, just so you know." Yeah, that's right. I remember saying, "No, no. In the name of all that is holy, no!" But look where we are. Nice work! Sorry I'm coming on a little strong, but the truth has set me free.

Debra: You gave up the right to make decisions when you stopped taking responsibility. You don't help me at all. You can't even wash a dish.
Ray: Maybe I'd wash a dish if I didn't have to look at those repulsive curtains.
Debra: Fine, fine. You be that way. But until you start helpin' out, I'm makin' all the decisions.
Ray: But-
Debra: Good night.
Ray: But you you can't do that. We're married. It's a two-way street.
Debra: No, it's not.
Ray: What do you mean, "No, it's not"? Marriage is a two-way street. You can't just make it a one-way street. Think of all the accidents you're causin'. "Not making any decisions..." I'll make all the decisions I want. Maybe I'm deciding to sleep down here tonight.
Debra: I already made that decision. Just so you know.

Ray: Wait! How 'bout we go to Marco's, huh? Just the two of us. Ma, can you take the kids to your house for dinner?
Marie: Sure. They could use a home-cooked meal.
Debra: It's okay, Marie.
Ray: No no, come on. It'll be fun, huh? Just you and me. Like when we were dating, except now I know not to expect sex after.
Marie: I don't like that, Raymond.

Ray: I'm not scared. What happened tonight caused me to have a revelation.
Debra: Which was what?
Ray: That I'm always the one who has to back down around here. I constantly have to shut my mouth to keep the peace.
Debra: Excuse me? [Ray makes the peace sign] This is unbelievable. You're going to act like a big baby because you didn't get your way tonight?
Ray: Try every night, okay? I'm talking about 12 years of marriage now! You have to get your way at everything, all the time.
Debra: That is not true!
Ray: Oh, it's not true? How about the dog that I've always wanted? And wait a minute! If you don't always get what you want, then I guess we have one. Hey, Floppy! Here, boy! Floppy? That's right, Floppy. You can't even let me name my imaginary dog.
Debra: So because we don't have a dog, you never get your way?

Marie: I just think that your bathroom needs as much help as it can get!
Ray: Look, no, this is not about Debra and her lousy housekeeping. It's about me finally getting some say.
Marie: Raymond, why are you being so stubborn?
Ray: Well, let's not forget, when I was growing up, you never let me make any decisions either. I was 15 you were still picking out my clothes.
Marie: There was nothing wrong with my putting together special outfits.
Ray: Yeah. Yeah, Ma, let me tell you something. When kids at school find out you're wearing an "outfit", all they want to do is hit you in it.
Marie: Well, you just give me the names of those kids-
Ray: I am all grown-up now, Ma! All grown-up!
Marie: And look how you dress.

Ray: All right, everybody out!
Marie: Raymond, I don't understand why you're acting like this.
Frank: Yeah, we didn't buy the stupid tissues.
Ray: Because this is ridiculous! I get one thing I want, and everybody's got to jump all over me!
Robert: Get something better next time.
Ray: Get out!
Frank: I'll tell you one thing. I've blown my nose for the last time in this house!
Ray: Oh. Oh, boy, there goes our Saturday night.

Ray: You see? I still can't make my own decisions. You never let me, and you never let me. You're both the same.
Debra: Hey!
Marie: Hey!
Frank: Game's all over. Still no sandwiches. [Robert hands Frank a sandwich] Oh. Hey, those tissues stink.
Ray: What?
Frank: Yeah. They got the lotion on them. They're all greasy. You pull one out to blow your nose on it, you think you did it already.
Ray: Yeah, right. Knowing you, Dad, you probably did.
Frank: Seriously. That is a disaster of a product.
Ray: These tissues are fine, Dad! They're fine! All right?

Robert: Raymond, if I may. Did you ever stop to wonder why these tissues were on sale? The bad color, the disgusting texture, the fact that they're only 100-count when a typical box of tissues holds 160? Hmm? You got ripped off, my brother. Nobody wanted these things. Nobody but poor ol' Mr. Bumblepuss. That's you.

Marie: Oh my God. You have ants here, too, Debra.
Debra: I know, Marie. Your son keeps leaving food out. Ray! Can you come here?
Marie: They seem to like your meatloaf, dear.

Ray: What? What's up?
Debra: More ants. Just so you know, I'm calling the exterminator.
Ray: Oh, no. I hate that guy and his chemicals. The counter tasted funny after he left last time.
Debra: What are you doin' lickin' the counter?
Ray: I saw somethin' that looked like jelly.